


degrees of honesty

by SunflowerEnthusiast



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, i guess?, spoilers for a lot of act 2 content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22268194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerEnthusiast/pseuds/SunflowerEnthusiast
Summary: Honesty is not so simple when both parties have trouble properly communicating with others. Still, as time goes on, Chikage finds that he enjoys spending time with his roommate.Not that he'd ever admit that, of course.
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Utsuki Chikage
Comments: 23
Kudos: 159





	degrees of honesty

Across the room, Chigasaki Itaru scrolls through his phone while lying on his bed, expression neutral. He’s dressed for bed already, but he shows no signs of trying to sleep.

Chikage, meanwhile, is sitting on his own bed, pretending to read something on his phone. The truth is, though, that he can’t focus on what’s in front of him. He can’t stop thinking about what happened earlier.

Itaru, who grew up completely normally (and Chikage knows this—he’s checked), followed Chikage into a dangerous situation, without so much of a hint of fear in his eyes. Chikage knows that he was probably just hiding it well, considering his ability to hold his emotions at bay when he wants to, but that doesn’t change the fact that it shouldn’t have been possible for a normal person to be that calm in the middle of, essentially, a crisis.

So that raises the question. Does he have experience with these types of situations? And, honestly, Chikage doubts it. Itaru’s lived, at least in comparison to Chikage, a normal life. The closest he’s ever been to something like this was probably some kind of video game. So why?

…

Chigasaki Itaru. When Chikage first met him at their company, he thought that Itaru was similar to himself. When you look at Itaru, it’s like you’re looking into a pond—the surface is calm and steady, but there’s something lurking underneath. When compared to Chikage, what lurks beneath the surface is not as ‘dark,’ but it’s just as deep down as Chikage’s own real self. Itaru hides his real self deep below the surface, unwilling to show it to anyone. He doesn’t trust people.

All of his qualities reminded Chikage of himself. He didn’t dislike Itaru, but he wasn’t interested, either. Itaru was just another faceless character lost in the sea of people Chikage had encountered in his life. Chikage never had any need to think deeply of people outside of his family and the people who worked for the Organization. At the very least, he interacted with Itaru every so often since they worked at the same company, and Chikage figured that he might as well as keep a somewhat amiable relationship with him on the off-chance that he ever came in handy for something.

The thing that made him really look at Itaru for the first time was when he realized Itaru lived with December. It was probably a complete coincidence, considering Chikage had already background-checked Itaru and knew that he had no ties to the world that Chikage lives in, but it was so suspicious that Chikage had to run a few more background checks on Itaru. When he was finally satisfied, he started to plan on how to use Itaru to get closer to December.

Looking back on it, Chikage knows that using Itaru as a stepping stone toward revenge was wrong of him, but having regrets now is useless. Even if Itaru didn’t work at the same company as him, if Chikage found December—Hisoka—somehow, then he would have infiltrated MANKAI regardless in order to get his revenge. Chikage is a dark person, after all—just simply killing Hisoka wouldn’t have satisfied his thirst for revenge. Ruining his new ‘family’ was the best way to get revenge for August’s death… Or so he thought.

Recalling these thoughts leaves a bitter taste in Chikage’s mouth, and he sighs quietly. He hurt a lot of people, directly and indirectly, when he tried to get revenge on Hisoka, and even if they say that they forgive him, Chikage will never forgive himself. He trampled on the Spring Troupe’s kindness toward him, he drugged and kidnapped their kind director, and he nearly killed Hisoka.

And yet. The Spring Troupe welcomed him back with open arms and relieved smiles, despite the fact that they all probably knew what he had done. Their director never hated him for kidnapping her, smiling at him (just like August did) and accepting him for himself. Hisoka… Hisoka never blamed him for what he almost did to him, instead apologizing to him for leaving him alone.

What would August think, looking at what Chikage’s done to these innocent people?

Chikage smiles to himself in defeat. He knows that if August were here, he’d slap Chikage on the shoulder and tell him to stop hating himself and just accept the fact that these people care about him enough to look past his crimes.

“Senpai, don’t smile to yourself like that. It’s weird.”

Chikage glances up and sees Itaru looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Chikage changes his smile to his usual fake one, setting his phone down on his bed. “I don’t want to hear that from someone who’s always cursing or grinning like a fool at his phone,” Chikage says lightly, earning a scowl and an eye roll from his roommate. Well, this isn’t their room at the dorms, though. They’re still in Zahra, but they’re supposed to be leaving tomorrow.

“Yeah, yeah, _I’m_ the weird one here. Okay.”

“Glad you understand.”

Itaru does one last dramatic eye roll (is that really behavior you should aim at your senpai, Chigasaki?) before turning back to his phone.

Thanks to Itaru’s distraction, he’s managed to get out of the loop of dark thoughts in his head. Speaking of which, he was thinking about him before he went back to that dark place, wasn’t he?

All in all, Itaru shouldn’t have been so calm during that situation, and he shouldn’t have been the type of person to risk his life for another. Chikage isn’t saying that Itaru’s heartless, because now that he’s lived with Itaru for a while, he knows that Itaru is far from heartless, but he _is_ willing to say that Itaru is a self-preserving person. As far as Chikage’s observed, he usually puts himself first and foremost. So, when Chikage said that he would go alone to search for Citron, Itaru _should_ have just gone with the rest of the group and left searching for Citron to Chikage, since he should have already known that Chikage is strong enough on his own to handle it.

Yet he still stayed behind and basically insisted on coming with Chikage, even though they both knew that he was going to effectively be useless if they ran into any danger.

It’s bothering him. He knows that he needs answers. Usually he would just leave it be, since Itaru might turn around and ask him why he seemed so prepared for dangerous situations like that (even if he might know the answer at this point), and Chikage can’t discuss the details of his “other job” with Itaru. It’ll just put him in danger. Having the Director know is already enough of a worry.

But… he wants answers, and he doesn’t actually think Itaru will try to ask him about his “other job.” Itaru already agreed to avert his eyes, and he’s not an idiot. Itaru could very well have put together what Chikage’s true identity is—but he won’t confront Chikage about it. That’s not the kind of person that he is. He’s surprisingly understanding. He won’t pry if Chikage is unwilling to talk.

That’s why Chikage gives him (mostly) the same treatment. He’s sure that Itaru has plenty of things that he doesn’t want to talk about, and Chikage’s not going to pry into those. Part of it is because he’s not actually interested; part of it is because they’re both adults so they both know not to go sticking their noses into each other’s business; and part of it is because he’s sure some of it is painful, and Chikage knows what it’s like digging up painful memories.

So, this time is an exception. Chikage wants Itaru to answer his questions, and he won’t stop until he gets an answer.

Chikage fixes his usual smile onto his face, and he looks over at Itaru. To his surprise, Itaru is already looking at him, his phone resting on his chest. When their eyes meet, Itaru lifts an eyebrow. “It’s rare to see you surprised, Senpai. Well, I can guess what’s distracting you. You have something to ask me, right? Go ahead,” Itaru prompts, propping himself up on his pillows and waiting for Chikage to say something.

Chikage has to hold back a wince. He should be more careful about his expression and actions, especially around Itaru. He’s irritatingly observant. “Well, I’ll have to give you a passing grade on reading the atmosphere,” Chikage applauds briefly, a touch of sarcasm in his words. Itaru doesn’t get annoyed, instead scoffing quietly in amusement. “You’re right. I want to talk to you about following me to rescue Citron.”

Itaru’s expression doesn’t change, and he shrugs his shoulders. “I figured. Surely you aren’t going to lecture me?” This time, his expression does move, as he frowns in suspicion, eyeing Chikage warily. As much as Chikage would like nothing more than to lecture him about how much danger he put both himself and Chikage in by following him, that will have to wait for another time.

“Not this time. I’ll save that for a later date,” Chikage smiles, making Itaru scrunch his nose in distaste. Chikage has to hold back a chuckle at that. Part of his smile drops as Chikage meets Itaru’s gaze again. “You already know what I’m going to ask you, right?”

Silence.

Itaru shifts his gaze, fidgeting with his phone in discomfort at the coldness in Chikage’s eyes. Chikage doesn’t care. Itaru will need a push to tell Chikage the truth and not a bullshit answer, so this is necessary.

“… Why did I follow you to rescue Citron, even though I knew that you were better at that kind of thing than myself? Why did I follow you when I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do anything? Why did I follow you even though I knew it was more dangerous for both of us?”

There we go.

Chikage sighs in exasperation. “If you knew all of that, why did you follow me?” He asks, a note of exhaustion in his voice. Like he said, Itaru isn’t an idiot. His knowing that much was obvious. So why risk his life and follow Chikage, especially when he knew that Chikage couldn’t guarantee his safety under the circumstances they were in?

Itaru stares at the window’s closed curtains for a long moment, as if pondering his answer. Chikage lets him, despite the fact that he should already have an answer to Chikage’s question. After a few minutes, he finally turns back to Chikage. The corners of his lips lift in the barest traces of a smile.

“Did you know that I sprained my ankle during RomiJuli?”

Chikage is surprised at the sudden change of subject, but it must have something to do with his answer, so he indulges Itaru. “No, I had no idea. You had fight scenes during that, didn’t you?” Chikage recalls the script that the Spring Troupe uses for RomiJuli plays during regional tours. It might have been changed a bit from the original version, but he’s pretty sure that Itaru should have had fight scenes regardless, considering he plays Tybalt, who dies during the play.

If that’s so, it isn’t hard to imagine Itaru hurting himself during the runs of the Spring Troupe’s very first play. Itaru is unathletic, and back then, he probably had a lot of difficulty with fight scenes. Still, he doubts Itaru bowed out of the plays because of a sprained ankle. Which means…

Itaru stares down at his phone, nostalgia clouding his eyes. “Honestly, it hurt a lot. I was struggling with just walking, and I dreaded doing the action scenes during the next play. The day that I sprained my ankle was just two days before the last performance, so I tried to convince myself that I could handle the pain for just a little while more… After all, if I said that I hurt myself and couldn’t do the play, then the final performance would be a failure. We didn’t have anyone else who could play Tybalt for me. And, honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to. I had already decided to see ‘RomiJuli’ through to the very end. A sprained ankle wasn’t going to stop me. Or, so I thought.”

Chikage has heard stories of the very beginning of the revamp of this theater. Apparently, the final performance of RomiJuli had to be completely sold out, and the Spring Troupe had to complete the performance successfully, or else Sakyo would just tear the theater down. That means that Itaru knew that, knew he couldn’t bow out because of a sprained ankle, and forced himself to power through despite his injury.

_Self-preserving…_

… Itaru definitely wasn’t just thinking about himself when he made that decision.

Itaru pauses, seems to gather himself, and then continues with his story. “I didn’t tell anyone about my injury. I didn’t want them to worry. But, suddenly. When I was checking on it, Citron came up to me and asked me if I was alright. He knew that I’d injured myself. I was shocked because I thought I had deceived everyone, but…” Itaru smiles in defeat. “He saw right through me. I had thought he was sharper than he seemed on the surface, but to think that he could see right through me like that. I’ll never forget it. You know, back then, seeing him be worried about me… It made me happy, even if I tried to pretend like it did the opposite. It’s not like no one’s ever worried about me before, but it was different with Citron, because he wasn’t part of my blood family. Yet he worried about me. I’ll always be grateful for that, because knowing that someone was concerned about me and watching my back gave me the confidence to feel like I could make it through the play even while I was injured.”

Chikage understands now. Back then, Citron gave him strength to stand on stage and perform, and to Itaru, that was something that left a lasting impression on him.

Itaru grimaces a little, chuckling self-deprecatingly as he adds, “Well, it didn’t go that well on my part during the performance, but with the help of our ever-reliable leader Sakuya, I was able to recover. He really is amazing.” The amount of respect in Itaru’s voice when he says that is something that you don’t hear on a daily basis, and Chikage thinks _ah_.

Sakuya saved Itaru, too.

Itaru makes a face like he’s remembering something he’d rather not remember, but he brushes it off with a shake of his head. “Anyway, I’m grateful to Citron for that, but it’s more than that. I have fun playing games with him and talking to him, too. During Clockwork, I was CitoRun’s first fan.”

“You were?” Chikage asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically. Chikage finds CitoRun’s routines entertaining, but by “first fan,” he can tell that must have been back when they first started their whole manzai act. He doubts their jokes could have been that great in the beginning.

But Itaru just grins proudly. “Yep. I stayed after practice every day to give them feedback on their jokes. It was pretty bad in the beginning, but they eventually started to get the hang of it. I liked watching them. Back then, Tsuzuru was struggling, and Citron wanted to help him. During their manzai sessions, the stress in Tsuzuru’s expression would go away. Well, it was replaced by a lot of exasperation, though,” Itaru chuckles at the memory, eyes fond. Chikage doubts that he would ever say these things in front of the actual people he’s talking about, or make these expressions, so it’s kind of nice to see him like this. Chikage knows that Itaru cares about the others in the Spring Troupe, but he usually doesn’t show it.

“So, yeah. There are things that I feel like I owe Citron for, but that’s not all. He’s part of my family here at MANKAI, and I care about him.” Itaru’s eyebrows knit together as he stares down at his phone, a frown pulling at his mouth. Chikage lifts an eyebrow. He can tell that Itaru’s trying to say something else, but it’s not coming out. Itaru must be struggling to say whatever it is. After a moment, Itaru turns his back to Chikage, hiding his expression from him. Before Chikage can comment, Itaru says, nearly too softly to hear, “… And that goes for you, too.”

… That… 

Usually, this is where Chikage would take the opportunity to make fun of Itaru, or tease him about caring, or something. But, not this time. Not when he struggled so much to get those few words out. Chikage can tell that his feelings are genuine, which in turn makes Chikage freeze up.

What is he supposed to say? “Thanks”? No, that’s not right. Chikage needs a real answer for Itaru.

Yeah, Chikage understands that they both value each other. But, what that “value” translates to is another thing entirely. Chikage is opposed to spoiling Itaru—out of everyone in the Spring Troupe, he’s the only one he won’t spoil. The reason for that, well… even Chikage is a bit unsure. Is it because Itaru reminds him of himself? Is it because he’s the oldest next to Chikage, so he shouldn’t have to be spoiled? Is it because Chikage finds Itaru’s retorts to his teasing entertaining? Which, okay, he does, but he digresses. Maybe it’s because Itaru puts on such a tough façade that Chikage knows that it would only hurt his pride to be spoiled by someone older than him (on a regular basis, at least).

That all being said, Chikage’s aware that the base reason for him treating Itaru “differently” is because there’s no point in hiding his real personality. It’s not as if he’s faking with the rest of the people at the dorms, because he’s not—he genuinely cares about everyone here and knows that they accept him.

But he’s never been good at communicating with other people, and by chance, he ended up with a roommate who’s the same. Despite this, Itaru tends to be good at dragging Chikage out of his shell and prompting him to communicate honestly with Itaru and the others. Chikage hates this, by the way, which is why he doesn’t bother even trying to be nice to Itaru and teases and makes fun of him all the time. Chikage’s “personality” is that he lies to himself and the people around him, masking his true feelings underneath the poisonous jabs and the lies. In order to reject Itaru’s small pokes at him to be honest, Chikage’s always harsh on him. Well, that, and like Chikage said, he likes to mess with Itaru.

But beneath all of Chikage making fun of Itaru, he cares about him. Itaru is part of his new family, and Chikage will always try to keep his family safe and happy. Sure, Chikage said that he couldn’t guarantee Itaru’s safety earlier, but that was mostly because he was hoping to scare him off. If it came down to it, Chikage would do everything in his power to save Itaru.

So, that’s Chikage’s “value” of Itaru. Itaru is important to him. But, in that case, what is Chikage to Itaru? He’s never really expressed that Chikage is important to him, too. If anything, Chikage disappearing one day should be a benefit to Itaru. He didn’t want a roommate, after all.

… But, no. Itaru _has_ shown that Chikage is important to him, though he may have never voiced it.

Before Oz’s first play, Itaru told Chikage to be himself more as an indirect yet sure way to give Chikage a push on the back and express to him that it was okay to be himself and stay with the rest of the Spring Troupe. Then, when Chikage tried to leave, he doubts that Itaru being up at that time was just a coincidence. He saw right through him, and tried to stop him, even if it was in a way that wasn’t obvious. And when Itaru couldn’t stop him, he called Sakuya. If Itaru hadn’t done that, who knows where Chikage would be right now.

There was no merit for Itaru in that whole exchange. If Chikage left, he would have the whole room to himself again. Itaru shouldn’t have gained anything from Chikage staying.

… Unless he cared about Chikage and wanted him to stay with them.

“… You know that I’m strong,” Chikage points out quietly, staring at Itaru’s back. _You know that I can handle situations like that._ _You didn’t have to worry about me._

“I know.” Itaru’s voice is strained a little, like he’s forcing the words to come out. He exhales, as if letting out all of his stress, and turns back to face Chikage. He’s surprisingly calm, and he stares straight into Chikage’s eyes. A small smile twitches at his lips. “You _are_ a cheat character, after all. But in that moment, I asked myself which choice I wouldn’t regret, and which one I would. I knew that if I didn’t try to help Citron and if I let you dive into danger all alone… I knew that I would regret it. What if one of you died? What if something bad happened and I didn’t try to do anything to help? Technically, besides Director-san, I was the only other adult in our group at the time. I should be the one trying to help, not the others, but I didn’t go with you out of a sense of responsibility or anything. You might be a total cheater and operating on New Game+ status, but you’re still human. If there was anything, even if it was a really small thing, that I could do for you and Citron… I wanted to do it. It might not be ‘characteristic’ of me to feel like this, but even if I seem like this, I still want to help the people that are important to me. So, there. That’s why I followed you.”

There’s a clear resolve in Itaru’s eyes. Chikage can tell that he isn’t lying; he can tell that Itaru is facing him head-on and telling him the truth. And it’s unusual for Itaru, because he’s just like Chikage, and he doesn’t like to be honest about his feelings, even with the people he cares about the most. So, basically, this is a sign that he’s entirely serious. He was worried that Citron or Chikage would get hurt or worse, and he wanted to help them.

“… You should use that attitude more in your daily life, too,” Chikage mutters, looking away. Right now, Chikage doesn’t have anything that he can say in response to Itaru. Of course, he still doesn’t approve of Itaru’s choice to follow him because it was so dangerous, but at the same time, he’s grateful that he did. When Chikage heard how dangerous the situation was, he was… afraid. He was afraid that he would lose another family member, and he couldn’t, he _wouldn’t_. He’ll never break his vow to protect his family. Never again.

That’s exactly why. If he went to rescue Citron on his own, he wasn’t sure what he would do. The thought of people hurting his family made his mind darken. He could have just lost control and showed an ugly side of himself to Citron, which was the last thing that he wanted.

But when Itaru stayed by his side and forced Chikage to let him come with him, Chikage was secretly relieved. If he had Itaru with him the entire time, he would hold out, because Itaru’s presence would remind him that he had to remain as “Utsuki Chikage” even while rescuing Citron. That’s why, even if he thinks Itaru is stupid for following him, he’s still grateful that he did.

Itaru chuckles. “I don’t have it in me to be like this all the time. I’m a lazy and selfish person—I can admit that. So, yeah, I don’t think I can be like that every day.”

“Well, if you were, it would be pretty disturbing.”

“Hey, _you’re_ the one who brought it up. Jeez, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Itaru grumbles to himself. Chikage glances back at him as he flops back down onto his bed, and he smiles a little at the irritated expression on his roommate’s face.

Itaru is difficult to deal with at times, just like Chikage knows he himself is. He’s lazy, he litters their room with his unwashed clothes and empty cola bottles, and he’s noisy to boot. He works to fund his gaming, and he has no qualms funneling that hard-earned money into what is essentially a portable slot machine. If possible, he’d rather leave all of his troublesome tasks to someone else. And, quite clearly, he doesn’t trust other people outside of everyone in MANKAI.

But he’s like a living contradiction. He seems so lazy, but when Chikage observes him working at the trading company, he doesn’t cut any corners. He’s actually a hard worker, and when tasked with something, he’ll finish it completely. He might be complaining inwardly, but it never leaves his mouth or shows on his face. Well, not unless you can read his expression, like Chikage can.

He might look neutral all the time, but his default dry personality clashes with how much he actually cares about the people around him. He might be terrible at reaching out to people, but that doesn’t stop him from trying, even if it’s in a roundabout way, or if he brushes it off. Chikage would be lying if he said that Itaru hasn’t helped him with his subtle nudges.

Itaru really does remind Chikage of himself—and while that isn’t supposed to be a good thing in Chikage’s mind, he does consider Itaru to be a much better person than himself.

Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

With a casual smile, Chikage reaches over and turns off the lamp, signaling that he’s getting ready to sleep. Itaru doesn’t protest; he’s probably tired, too. After Chikage settles himself under the blankets, he raises his voice to the light coming from his left.

“Thanks, Chigasaki.”

He’s sure that Itaru understands.

“… I’m just glad you’re both okay.”

“I’m glad that Citron wasn’t hurt badly.”

“Me, too.”

_… I’m glad that you were spared from any real danger, too._

And that’s an undeniable truth. Chikage won’t even try to lie to himself about it.

Maybe one day he’ll be able to thank him for everything else, too.

* * *

Some months later finds Chikage preparing for a role in the stage adaption of a game called “Knights of Round.” The lead actor is Itaru, and Chikage is his co-lead. Remembering how Sakuya supported him during Oz’s plays makes Chikage want to support Itaru, too. However, he won’t do it head-on. No, that’s not how he and Itaru work. He’ll use roundabout methods to help Itaru.

Or that’s what he planned on.

Later, Itaru still discovers him searching up information on Hoshii and stops him, which is too bad. Chikage knows that, no matter what Itaru says, he wouldn’t want to use underhanded methods for things like this because he’s a (relatively) good person. Personally, Chikage was fine with his plan since it would mean Itaru and the rest of the Spring Troupe would get to act out KniRoun, but if Itaru wants to change Hoshii’s mind on his own, then so be it.

Speaking of that incident… out of everyone in the Spring Troupe, Itaru is the one Chikage has the most trouble being honest with. He has trouble letting his guard down completely around everyone, but he knows that he can trust them, and that this is a place where he can relax. Still, Chikage doesn’t enjoy admitting that, okay, he cares about his cheeky roommate and that he might even respect him a little. Just a little.

And he’s already gone over all of this before, and he still doesn’t know what exactly it is about Itaru that makes him treat him differently, but it’s not like Itaru hates him for it. Actually, that might be it. Itaru’s mental stamina is surprisingly impressive, and he never seems affected by Chikage’s poisonous jabs. Instead of getting angry or irritated like someone might after being the subject of many disses, Itaru either brushes it off or retorts with that cheekiness that’s so annoying. Mm, maybe that’s it.

Chikage just doesn’t want to spoil him because it’d be a waste to lose out on hearing Itaru’s flavorful retorts every day.

(And, yeah, they’d both probably be grossed out by being nice to each other. Mm, just as Chikage thought, he can’t picture it. If they were to ever honestly be nice to each other, he’s pretty sure that would be a flag for the world ending.)

So, Chikage has trouble being honest with Itaru. That doesn’t surprise him. Even to himself, he doesn’t like to admit that he cares about Itaru. When Itaru thanked him for his advice, he responded with, “Gross,” because there honestly wasn’t anything else for him to say at the time. Even if Chikage’s willing to offer Itaru advice when he’s struggling like that, he’s _not_ willing to admit that he was just glad that Itaru found a way to move forward. Like he said, their dry relationship of bickering with each other is better. He knows that he nor Itaru desire anything “nicer” than what they have now.

After all, how will Chikage get his daily entertainment without being able to make fun of Itaru?

… Just kidding.

“—Ah, shit. I’m dying.”

Chikage, who had been reviewing his script during a break in practice, glances up just in time to see his roommate collapsing onto the floor of the practice room, smushing his check against the cool tile. “Ah… feels good,” Itaru groans, grabbing a water bottle and pressing it against his forehead. Chikage rolls his eyes at the sight.

“Don’t press your face to the dirty floor. Also, what are you going to do during the play if you surrender after just half an hour of practice?’ Chikage lifts a skeptical eyebrow, standing up and walking over so he can jam his shoe into Itaru’s side.

Itaru coughs weakly, sending an equally weak glare up at Chikage. “Excuse me for not having your monstrous stamina,” he drawls, voice dripping with sarcasm. Well, if he can retort with that much attitude, he should be fine. Chikage removes his shoe from Itaru’s ribcage, letting him breathe. Itaru sighs in exhaustion. “Anyway, I’m getting back up soon. I’m just taking a quick break.”

Part of Chikage wants to ask him if he’s serious, considering how dead he looks, but once he catches a glimpse of that determination in his eyes, he decides that the question isn’t needed. Instead, he shrugs and smiles pleasantly. “Well, good. You and I can practice the scenes where Lancelot and Gawain fight each other.”

Itaru groans again, flopping onto his back. “Ugh, of course we would go straight to those scenes… Just try to go easy on me. I’m fragile, unlike you.”

“I’ll be as gentle as possible.” Chikage grins, knowing that a dangerous glint has appeared in his eyes. Itaru takes one look at his face and grimaces.

“… Why do I feel like you’re lying?”

“Who can say?”

It really is fun to mess with him.

“—Chigasaki, what do you think of the ending of KniRoun IV?”

At Chikage’s sudden question, a panting Itaru sends a confused glance his way. They’ve just finished practicing the scenes where Lancelot and Gawain fight each other, so Itaru’s understandably exhausted. Chikage, meanwhile, hasn’t even started sweating yet. Even though Itaru gave it his all, he’s still lacking a bit. Chikage will discuss the movements and steps with him later.

“You mean how it ominously ends on Merlin still being alive…?”

Chikage shakes his head, a (fake) smile spreading over his face. His smile immediately makes Itaru tense in anticipation for something bad, and Chikage holds back a laugh. “No, about how Gawain says that he hasn’t forgiven Lancelot, but that they’re still friends. Don’t you think it’s too idealistic for an ending?” Chikage wonders aloud, sounding thoughtful. “I know kids play the game, but I don’t think the same thing would happen in reality.”

Right—it’s idealistic. Gawain deciding to let Lancelot back into his life even though he betrayed him and allowed his family—his brother—to die… It’s something that should only happen in fictional situations.

Reality is not so kind.

Itaru purses his lips in thought, staring down into his water bottle pensively. “… I mean, nothing’s going to change the fact that Lancelot betrayed Gawain and King Arthur.”

Chikage blinks in surprise. He looks down at Itaru, who’s still staring into his water bottle in thought, and he decides to sit down next to him. “I’m surprised that you’re not trying to defend him,” Chikage chuckles lightheartedly, but he’s not lying. He thought Itaru, who loves Lancelot so much, would try to defend his actions.

Itaru hums noncommittally, shrugging his shoulders. He glances at Chikage out of the corner of his eye, a wry smile appearing on his face. “Just because I love Lancelot doesn’t mean that I can’t acknowledge his faults. See, if you think about it, no matter what Lancelot did, he would be betraying someone important to him. If he didn’t try to rescue Gwen, he would be betraying Gwen and the Lady of the Lake, who were like family to him. If he _did_ try to rescue Gwen, he would be betraying Gawain, who had become a close friend to him, and King Arthur, who Lancelot was serving as his knight. Either way, he was betraying people who were important to him, right?” Itaru prompts, to which Chikage nods. He’s right. No matter which path Lancelot took, he would be betraying the trust of people he valued. “But that doesn’t make what he did right. Maybe there was some third solution that he could have found. We don’t know if he _really_ had to betray someone, but maybe Lancelot felt so backed into a corner that he saw no way out but those two choices.”

“… That’s true,” Chikage muses, turning over Itaru’s words in his mind. He can tell from the way that Itaru talks about this that he’s thought about it before. “So, you think that Lancelot should be forgiven?”

Itaru looks at Chikage, who just continues to smile at him, and he sighs. He seems tired, like there’s something about this conversation wearing him out. Chikage isn’t really surprised—Itaru’s always good at reading the situation. “I don’t think it’s that simple? I mean, Lancelot didn’t want Gareth to die—far from it. He was shocked when Gawain told him that Gareth was dead, and I don’t think that Lancelot ever forgave, or will forgive, himself for letting Gareth die. At the same time, I doubt he’ll ever regret rescuing Gwen.”

Chikage finally drops his fake smile, sending an exasperated look Itaru’s way. “Those statements are contradicting to each other, you know.”

Itaru rolls his eyes. “Maybe, but it’s the truth. Lancelot is an honorable knight. He understands that he let one of his comrades die on his watch, and I’m sure he’s willing to take the blame for it. If that was what caused his friendship with Gawain to end, even if it would have made Lancelot sad, he would have accepted it, because that was his punishment for not having a better strategy to protect the knights who sided with him. Or, that’s what I think, anyway,” Itaru shrugs at the end, as if admitting that he could be wrong.

But there’s not necessarily a “right” and a “wrong” here.

Chikage decides to finally bring what caused him to ask Itaru this question into the conversation. Chikage lifts an eyebrow, saying, “So, let’s put it this way. You were betrayed, too, weren’t you?”

Itaru blinks in surprise at the sudden question, but the surprise quickly fades into a slight annoyance. “Going for the throat, aren’t we? Yes, I was. Are you trying to say that I’m Gawain and Tonooka is Lancelot? Because if so, Tonooka could never be Lancelot,” Itaru deadpans, the barest hints of spite in his voice. Chikage tries not to chuckle at that.

“Well, the situations are different, but your positions in the whole topic of betrayal are the same. So, what then? You’ve never forgiven Tonooka, right? Gawain may not have forgiven Lancelot either, but he still let him back into his life. Is that what you would do with Tonooka?” Chikage asks, watching in amusement as Itaru’s eyes get darker and darker with each word.

Truthfully, Chikage understands that what he’s asking isn’t fair. While the scale of Tonooka’s betrayal of Itaru wasn’t nearly as big as Lancelot’s betrayal of Gawain, Tonooka’s betrayal still left a large scar on Itaru. Because of Tonooka, Itaru stopped trying to interact with people, not trusting them or letting them in. In a sense, it ruined Itaru’s future with other people. In Chikage’s opinion, even if the scale is not the same, the impact on Itaru was still horrible, which is why he’s asking him this now.

Even though he knows that Itaru might not want to have this brought up.

Itaru is silent for a long time. Chikage begins to wonders if he pissed him off to the point that he isn’t going to answer him. When he’s starting to resign himself to apologizing to Itaru for pushing too far, Itaru finally opens his mouth. “… I wouldn’t let Tonooka back into my life. Both of us have changed too much, and we’re both too proud to make up and be friends again.”

So that’s that. Itaru wouldn’t let Tonooka back into his life. In that case, does he—

“But our situation isn’t the same as Lancelot and Gawain’s.”

Chikage shrugs. “I know, but—”

“—But you just wanted me to compare it to my personal experience, yeah, I get it,” Itaru sighs, casting an exasperated glare Chikage’s way. His shoulders droop tiredly. “You know, in the end, even if they’re just characters in a video game, it was Gawain’s decision to make. Whether he wanted to forgive Lancelot or not—whether he wanted to still be friends with Lancelot or not—all of that was on Gawain. So, if, in the end, Gawain decided that he still wanted to be friends with Lancelot, that was _his_ decision. If Lancelot was so important to Gawain that he still wanted to be by his side even after he betrayed him, that was a conclusion that Gawain reached all on his own. And, it’s one that fans have to respect.”

_A conclusion that Gawain reached all on his own…_

In his mind, suddenly, he sees a flash of white, as a nostalgic voice that he knows like his own speaks to him. Chikage quickly shakes those thoughts out of his head, but before he can think of what to say now, Itaru grins softly, murmuring, “And, honestly, I think Gareth would approve of his choice. Gareth respected Lancelot, and he must have loved Gawain despite their short time together. I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted his death to tear their friendship apart.”

A person who betrayed another, a person who wanted to be with them despite that, and a person who wished for their happiness.

… Well, that sounds like a story that Chikage’s heard before.

Chikage smiles wearily, knowing that the smile on his face is real this time. “It really is too idealistic,” he mumbles, leaning against Itaru’s shoulder. Itaru doesn’t comment on the action, instead letting out an amused laugh.

“I guess. But, I think if they loved or cared about each other enough, it could happen in real life, too,” Itaru comments, lightly. Just like he thought earlier, Itaru probably saw right through Chikage’s questions. Chikage knows that it’s not like him to be so sloppy, but… No, that’s not it. Besides the topic, Chikage knows that he hid his emotions as well as he could have.

Itaru just sees right through him.

… That’s a disturbing thought.

So, instead, Chikage thinks about what Itaru said, and he closes his eyes. He hopes that his face doesn’t betray the tumult of emotions swirling in his chest.

“… Maybe.”

_Isn’t that right… December, August._

* * *

The lead actor in MANKAI Company’s first ever mix troupe play is none other than Chikage’s very own roommate, one Chigasaki Itaru, and Chikage watches him go through the experience with slight amusement. Itaru is, clearly, a theater nerd just like the other two men who are close in age to him, but that very fact is something that would strike anyone who knows Itaru normally as ‘interesting.’

Secretly, Chikage is a fan of Itaru’s acting—though he’ll never tell him that.

Just think about it. Itaru is normally such a dispassionate, dry person. Despite how he likes to play games about ideals and hope and bright futures, he’s so extremely pessimistic about his own life that one could hardly believe that this is the same man who has the gall to call Chikage “unromantic.” That’s right, Itaru is a walking contradiction in several different ways, and it’s ridiculous.

But if you see him act on stage, and even more if you act _with_ him on stage… You’ll understand.

He’s not nearly as dispassionate as he makes himself seem.

Of course, he’s passionate about games. That goes without saying. However, outside of games, the only thing that Chikage has ever seen light up those eyes is—

Acting on stage with everyone in MANKAI Company.

When Itaru acts on stage, he becomes a different person, and not just in the sense of his role on stage. He becomes, maybe, a person that he could have been—maybe a person that he’d like to turn into. He puts everything he has into acting. Is his stamina awful? Yeah. Are his reflexes and motor skills bad? Fairly. But none of that ever stops him. Itaru is willing to utilize every weapon in his arsenal to make his roles work, despite the fact that he’s at a disadvantage physically, which could be fatal during such long performances.

None of this is something you’d expect from Itaru if you knew him.

Itaru was changed by this place, just like Chikage, and perhaps that’s why Chikage feels just a bit more kinship with his roommate—just a bit.

So, yes. Chikage is secretly a fan of “Chigasaki Itaru the actor.” There’s just something so captivating about the way Itaru conducts himself on stage, an appeal that the normal Itaru doesn’t have. Of course, Chikage also finds Itaru’s “private persona” likeable, but the two cases are clearly different.

Chikage’s first encounter with Itaru as an actor wasn’t during Oz—it was during Clockwork, when Chikage went to go see the play since Itaru was in it. In truth, he wasn’t actually interested in Itaru or his troupe, but since he was using Itaru to get closer to Hisoka, he figured he should go to see a play Itaru was in to at least make it seem like he was interested.

Though, in reality, he didn’t find Itaru entirely boring. The glimpses of his real personality that slipped through in some of his polite yet snippy comments separated him from the rest of the company, who are all as polite as possible to Chikage. Maybe if Chikage wasn’t so obsessed with revenge back then, he and Itaru would have actually become friends since Chikage likes people like Itaru.

… No use in thinking about that now, though.

Anyway, he got to see Itaru act as Boyd in Clockwork, and it was an intriguing experience, even for himself back then. Itaru hadn’t struck him as the type who would actually be into acting, but when Chikage saw him on that stage, he knew that Itaru wasn’t being an actor just for the hell of it. Though Boyd’s lines were few, the way Itaru portrayed him still left an impression on the audience, and that wasn’t something you could do without actually putting effort into your performance. Chikage had, admittedly, been impressed by Itaru, who seemed so dispassionate about life.

Now that Chikage himself has joined MANKAI Company, he can appreciate that performance more. He really does respect Itaru as an actor… if nothing else.

Chikage gave Itaru some advice on how to act out his two-faced role this time, so he also goes to the final performance to see how his roommate is doing with the play. He ends up enjoying himself watching how different Itaru’s character is during the day and at night, but he does have to admit that it’s strange to see Itaru up on MANKAI Theater’s stage without any Spring Troupe members around him. He looks like he’s having fun, though, which is nice. He and Banri definitely do make a good duo, onstage and off.

When Chikage sees the proud smile on Itaru’s face when the cast takes a bow, he can’t help the little grin that pulls at his mouth.

He really is a big fan of this actor, isn’t he.

He has no intentions of actually telling Itaru that, though.

* * *

“Senpai, welcome home.”

“… I’m home.”

In the waning hours before dawn, Chikage finds his roommate glued to his computer, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he does what look to be edits on a video. He had expected Itaru to be asleep already, but then again, it’s a Saturday morning, so it doesn’t surprise him all that much that Itaru is still up.

Chikage is busy with preparations for Scarlet Mirror, a mix play, and he also has to deal with a… problem from his “other life.” Due to the problem, he’s been coming home late every night. The little free time he has is spent studying the script and practicing as much as he can. No matter what’s going on with “April,” “Utsuki Chikage” has to be able to perform on stage. That being said, if he has to, he’s willing to sacrifice “Chikage” if it means keeping the rest of the theater troupe safe.

Chikage brushes those thoughts off as he changes from his suit into his casual clothes. He already took a bath at the hideout, so he doesn’t have to do that. He’ll probably review the script before taking a short nap before he has to wake up. While he’s on his way to grab his script, though, Itaru turns around in his chair, calling out to him, “Senpai, aren’t you going to sleep?”

Chikage sends a slightly exasperated glance Itaru’s way. “I could ask you the same,” he replies, eyeing the dark circles under Itaru’s eyes. Itaru just smiles.

“I don’t have work today or tomorrow, so it’s fine. I have a bunch of stuff I want to do, and I don’t need sleep.”

Chikage just rolls his eyes in response to that.

Chikage’s about to finally grab his script, but Itaru stops him. Again. “If you’re not going to sleep, then let’s play together.”

This time, Chikage gives Itaru the most exasperated expression he can muster. In response, Itaru just grins mischievously. “And why would I play games with you of all people?” Chikage shakes his head with a sigh. He doesn’t understand his roommate sometimes.

Itaru clicks his tongue condescendingly, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “You can’t say that this time. After all, you already said that you would try out some games with Holmes in it,” Itaru points out, a triumphant glimmer in his eyes.

“I never said that I would play them with you, though.”

“Everything’s more fun when you do it together. Now, stop being a wet blanket, and let’s play.”

Clearly, Itaru isn’t willing to give up on this issue anytime soon. So, with a sigh of resignation, Chikage puts his hands up in a symbol of defeat. “Alright, fine. An otaku who’s been denied is a scary thought, after all.” A small smirk pulls at Chikage’s mouth at the last sentence, but all that elicits out of Itaru is an amused roll of his eyes.

Itaru pulls out a case from one of his game boxes, and he goes over to the TV to setup whichever console the game is for. Meanwhile, Chikage takes a seat on the couch, grabbing his script on the way. He manages to read a couple of pages before Itaru plops down onto the couch next to him, offering him a controller. Chikage reluctantly takes it, noting that the TV is already displaying the main menu of the game.

“So, basically, this specific game is sort of just a retelling of ‘A Study in Scarlet’ in game form. It follows the events of ‘A Study in Scarlet,’ and it lets you play as Holmes. The main gameplay is investigating and solving riddles, so it’s sort of like a puzzle game. Since you’ve already read ‘A Study in Scarlet,’ it’ll probably be a piece of cake for you. Oh, but the writers changed a couple of things along the way, so it’s not an exact retelling,” Itaru tacks on the last part as if just remembering, even though that should have been something he said from the beginning. Well, whatever. The game seems simple enough.

“I don’t have problems reviewing the story, but if it’s basically a retelling, I’m not sure if there’s anything to be gained by playing it, you know,” Chikage points out skeptically. Oddly enough, Itaru just smirks.

“So you say now. Take a look at Holmes.”

Chikage glances at the model of Holmes standing on the right side of the title screen. He looks like Holmes, that’s for sure. “What am I looking at?” Chikage asks, a bit irritated. Nothing looks out of place or strange about this Holmes.

Itaru rolls his eyes in exasperation. “I can’t believe this. Is this, maybe, the people closest to the person are the most oblivious? Or maybe…” Itaru trails off, muttering nonsense to himself. Chikage pins him with a glare.

“What are you going on about?”

Itaru shrugs in defeat. “This Holmes reminds me of Hisoka, so I thought you might find it interesting to play. See, look,” Itaru points at the white hair peeking out from beneath Holmes’s cap, “they have the same hair color, right? Plus, Holmes and Hisoka already resemble each other a little in that they like to do weird stuff randomly, right? Also, later in the game, Moriarty’s dialogue is pretty interesting in my opinion, so you might want to read it.”

Now that Itaru mentions it, this Holmes does look a bit like Hisoka, but they’re also very different. That’s not enough to catch Chikage’s attention, but Itaru’s last statement is. Perhaps there will be an interesting perspective on Moriarty in this game. Chikage figures that he can’t quit now that Itaru’s set it all up—he’ll never heard the end of it. So, deciding that there’s no escape, Chikage sighs and starts the game.

The puzzles aren’t too hard, and like Itaru predicted, Chikage breezes through any story parts that reuse information from “A Study in Scarlet.” Chikage progresses through the game at a good pace, and he finds that the changes they made to the story are rather interesting. The room is quiet, save for the sounds from the TV and a stray comment from Chikage or Itaru, but… it’s comfortable. After being so wound up over his preparations for “that,” Chikage finally feels himself relaxing.

During a lull in the story, Itaru glances up at Chikage, eyes curious. He’s been slouching and using Chikage’s arm as a pillow for the last half an hour. “Is practice going well?” He asks, traces of tiredness creeping into his voice. He must finally be getting sleepy.

Chikage shrugs with his free arm. “Yeah, it is,” he says, and it’s not technically a lie. While practice _is_ going well, he knows that the atmosphere between himself and Hisoka is a bit… strained, to say the least. They’re both professionals, and it _shouldn’t_ affect their performance on stage, but… In reality, Chikage knows that that isn’t the problem. He just doesn’t want to think about solutions. He’s never been good at making up with his “brother.”

“Hmm… That’s good.” Itaru doesn’t say anything else, but it’s clear that he doesn’t believe him. Despite that fact, he won’t pry further unless Chikage offers the information first—which he definitely is not doing. Chikage knows that he should throw Itaru a bone every now and then since he’s always averting his eyes and pretending like he doesn’t know what Chikage is doing, but… It’s too dangerous. Chikage will pretend like he isn’t burdening Itaru with his problems, and he’ll pretend like he doesn’t sometimes wonder if he’s just making his roommate suffer.

… It’s better this way.

(Even if he does know, deep down, that he can be honest with Itaru and trust him to keep everything a secret.)

Chikage thinks that’s the end of the conversation, but cold hands suddenly reach up to grip his arm lightly. Chikage looks down at Itaru in surprise, but only finds him still resting against his arm, eyes now closed. “… Just be careful… wouldn’t want Hisoka and the others to be up there all alone…”

Chikage blinks in surprise.

Whether Itaru was actually conscious or not when he said that is probably a question that Chikage will never know the answer to. He’s sure that if he asks Itaru when he wakes up, he’ll just say that he doesn’t remember saying that, whether that’s the truth or not. Well, not that Chikage would actually ask him, though.

Itaru’s steady breathing indicates that he’s sleeping. Chikage saves the game, and he turns off the TV. With a soft sigh, Chikage resigns himself to sleeping on the couch with Itaru tonight. Grabbing a nearby blanket and spreading it over his idiotic roommate, Chikage leans back and closes his eyes.

_Just be careful…_

Itaru really is a thorn in his side, always seeing right through him.

But knowing that he cares… it’s not a bad feeling.

Even if he would never admit that.

* * *

Chikage has made a grave mistake.

Yes, he’s allowed the demon named “Chigasaki Itaru” to install a game on his phone.

That being said, Chikage himself is the one who downloaded it, but only because he knew Itaru wouldn’t stop pestering him until he did. Of course, Itaru regretted that decision as soon as Chikage’s first gacha roll had so many SSRs, but that’s what Itaru gets for asking him to play with him. 

Anyway, it was a mistake because Itaru now often asks him about the game, like what his progress is like or if he got any good characters from the gacha. Chikage doesn’t hate the game, because he actually does like KniRoun quite a bit, but he doesn’t exactly have time to play it all the time, so it’s annoying that Itaru is always asking him about it.

He brings this game up because today, there was a newly released gacha. The SSR is a special version of Gareth from a different version of KniRoun than IV. As it turns out, not all of the KniRoun games happen in the same timeline, and there’s even a game out there where Gareth is alive and well. Chikage has a personal connection to Gareth, obviously, so he was planning on trying to get him since he has enough for a roll. But if he’s going to try at all, might as well as do it in front of Itaru, so that if he gets him, Itaru can give him that exasperated look that Chikage’s so fond of.

“I’m home.”

And yet, when Chikage arrives home to Room 103 in the evening, there’s no sign of Itaru anywhere, and all that greets him is silence. He wasn’t in the living area, though, so it’s odd that he isn’t here. Chikage doubts that he’s taking a bath right now… And he knows that he’s already returned from work.

Chikage frowns in thought as he crosses the room to set down his briefcase in his area. But, as he’s passing Itaru’s couch, he pauses. There, at the foot of the couch, is the roommate he’s been looking for, except something is decidedly _off_ about him. One: he’s lying on the floor. Two: he’s not even in his usual getup with the yellow jacket, but instead in his sweats he uses for practice. And he isn’t moving.

Chikage ignores him for the moment since he can see him breathing, and he goes over to his area to put away his briefcase. After that, he changes out of his suit, and then he finally makes his way over to Itaru. He squats next to Itaru’s head, noting that his face is pressed into the couch. Chikage lets out a long, audible sigh.

“Chigasaki. Stop making out with the couch and get up.”

“I’m not doing anything of the sort.”

“Then, are you trying to suffocate yourself? Because if so, I can give you a hand with that.”

“Go ahead.”

Blinking in surprise at the unexpected reaction, Chikage examines Itaru more closely. That being said, he still can’t see his face, so he checks around Itaru’s body for any clues. It doesn’t look like his phone or any game consoles are around, so that rules those out. He’s most likely not depressed over a bad gacha roll or something similar. Deciding that this isn’t going anywhere, Chikage sighs again, propping his chin in his palm.

“Sakuya would be sad if he heard you say that,” Chikage reprimands the younger man, to which he just makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper. Chikage feels himself smile in spite of the situation. “Come on, you don’t want to make Sakuya sad, do you?”

“… Ugh. Why’d you have to come home early…”

“That’s a rude thing to say to your senpai, Chigasaki.”

Itaru still hasn’t budged, and it doesn’t look like he will, either. “This is nothing, really, and I’ll make a full recovery soon, so just… Go sit in your chair or something. Or better yet, go spend some time with the kids.”

Though Itaru’s voice is muffled, his message is clear: _Leave me alone, because I don’t want to talk about it._ Usually, this is where Chikage would leave him alone, but…

He knows he should, since Itaru always respects his own boundaries, but today is different. Itaru usually doesn’t get this depressed. So, if something serious has happened, someone has to try to help him, and knowing Itaru, if Chikage doesn’t try now, he’s not going to open up to anyone else, either.

Chikage sighs. Itaru is as much of a handful as he himself probably is.

That being said, deep down, Chikage knows that there’s a part of himself that genuinely wants Itaru to go back to being normal as soon as possible. This just isn’t like Itaru—even if something does truly get him down or upset him, he hardly ever lets it show on his face, and he carries whatever it is alone. He always makes a quick recovery no matter what it is, which is a testament to how mentally tough he is, though that isn’t much of a surprise, considering his past. So, this whole situation is just strange, and Chikage feels like he has a responsibility as Itaru’s roommate to try to do something about it.

And maybe at the root of it all, Chikage wants to be the one to help Itaru.

(But, no. That can’t possibly be the truth.)

Chikage is silent for a bit as he makes a plan for how he’s going to get Itaru to at least listen to him. After he knows what he’s going to do, he nods to himself and takes out his own phone. “By the way, that new Gareth gacha started up in KniRoun, didn’t it? I’m going to roll for him,” Chikage tells Itaru, who still doesn’t bother to roll over.

“…”

Chikage logs into KniRoun and then taps on the gacha page. After confirming that this box is the new one, he hits the 10-roll button. On his screen, a rainbow jewel appears in front of King Arthur’s castle. “Oh, I rolled a SSR.”

“……”

Chikage flicks through his prizes briefly, and he snorts when he notices that he rolled four of the new Gareth. Not that he expected anything else. “Four Gareths. Looks like I’ll be able to max him out,” Chikage says with smug satisfaction, heading over to his teams so that he can uncap Gareth.

“………”

“Oh, and look,” Chikage notes, checking his inventory. “I rolled the new SR Lancelot, too. Isn’t this one supposed to be wearing clothes gifted to him by the Lady of the Lake or something?” Though it sounds like Chikage is asking, he already knows that the answer to his question is “yes.”

“… You’re fucking kidding me.”

Chikage has to stop himself from bursting into laughter. All that silence and _that’s_ the first thing out of his mouth. Chikage expected nothing less from Itaru. “I don’t joke, Chigasaki,” Chikage grins, knowing full well what Itaru will respond with.

Just as he expected, Itaru sounds quite irritated when he responds. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. Jeez, are you trying to make me more depressed? Because it’s working.” He really _does_ sound more depressed than earlier (and a bit angry), but that’s exactly the result Chikage was aiming for.

Now to reel him in. “Well, if you’re _that_ depressed, I suppose I can roll for you on your phone. Aren’t I a great senpai?” Chikage smiles down at Itaru even if he can’t see it. Any moment now…

And, there.

Itaru rolls over to glare up at Chikage, but it’s diminished by his squinting against the light. “You are so infuriating,” he deadpans, a frown forming on his face when he realizes that Chikage is smiling at him. “I don’t need your help rolling or anything. Just go away.”

Well, Itaru doesn’t look like he’s been crying, at least. That’s good. If he had been, then this whole ordeal would be out of Chikage’s comfort zone. Chikage lets out an exaggerated sigh at Itaru’s last words. “Here I am trying to help you, and yet you’re being so rude. How ungrateful.”

Itaru rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m an ungrateful kouhai. Now, shoo.” Itaru makes a shooing gesture, preparing to roll back over. It doesn’t look like their usual banter will break Itaru out of whatever funk he’s in. Well, since he’s being so stubborn…

Chikage sighs, for real this time, and puts his hand on Itaru’s shoulder, preventing him from rolling back over. “Chigasaki,” Chikage begins, voice serious, “if something is bothering you this much, it would be better to get it off your chest. It doesn’t have to be me you talk to, but you shouldn’t hold it all in.”

Itaru stiffens under Chikage’s grip on his shoulder, and he turns an icy gaze on him. Chikage realizes what he said, and he curses inside his own head. This is exactly why he’s not cut out to be the one to have this conversation with Itaru. He should have listened to his better judgment and left Itaru alone. Whatever he says is just going to make him look like the biggest hypocrite in the world. “I don’t want to hear that from _you_ ,” Itaru retorts, a low edge in his voice. Despite knowing that he deserves that reaction, Chikage has to resist the urge to immediately back off at the hostility coming from the usually passive man. Of course, he isn’t afraid of Itaru, not by a long shot—but maybe he is afraid of being hated by him.

“… You’re right. I don’t have the right to order you around about things like this. I’ll leave you alone now.” Chikage’s tone of voice is short, even to his own ears. Really, this is ridiculous. He shouldn’t be hurt by Itaru’s words; after all, they’re the truth. Chikage is a hypocrite for telling Itaru to be honest when Chikage himself is hardly ever honest with him. Chikage has absolutely no right to try to force Itaru to tell the truth.

And yet, it still hurts somewhat—just another annoying part of being human and caring about other people.

Before Chikage can get up, a cold hand latches onto his arm. “Wait! I didn’t mean that.” Itaru’s voice is shaky. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m sorry.”

Chikage could just shake him off. It’d be easy; Itaru is weak, after all. Yet, he doesn’t. “You don’t have to apologize to me,” Chikage tells him, shaking his head. “It’s true that I—”

Itaru interrupts him, a tinge of desperation in his voice. “No! I mean, yeah, you’re super secretive, and all your lies get annoying, but I get that there are things that you just can’t talk to me or anyone else about. I just… I just got too defensive. It’s my fault.” Itaru sounds like he actually regrets what he said. Chikage chances a glance back at him and finds Itaru staring up at him forlornly. With a sigh, Chikage turns back around to face him.

To be honest, Chikage doesn’t want to continue this conversation since it’s gotten so messy, and he absolutely hates dealing with such… _human_ affairs. Like he’s said before, he’s never been good at making up with Hisoka, but that extends to other people as well. Chikage hates repairing bridges and talking things out, even if it’s with his family. He’s just never been good at that kind of thing.

Itaru observes his face for a bit, and then he suddenly laughs quietly. Chikage is startled by the sudden change in mood, but before he can ask what’s so funny, Itaru tells him. “You look like you want to be anywhere but here. I guess you and I have something else in common, huh?” When Chikage just sends him a confused glance, Itaru grins cheekily. “We both suck at trying to make up with someone after conflict.”

… Chikage wonders if it was that obvious or if Itaru’s just that good at reading him. He doesn’t really want to know the answer.

“… Your point being?”

Itaru finally sits up at that, letting go of Chikage’s arm. Itaru hums thoughtfully, and even though Chikage doesn’t really enjoy their current topic, he’s glad that Itaru seems to be recovering through their conversation. “Well, I guess I was just thinking that it was funny that we have so much in common. After all, it’s pretty obvious that we’ve lived very different lives, and yet here we are together. Kinda interesting, don’t you think?”

… Chikage supposes that he has a point.

Even though they’ve led very different lives like Itaru said, they still have quite a bit in common, and honestly, Chikage would be willing to say that they’re well-matched. Not out loud, of course, but still. The way Itaru rebounds any jabs Chikage sends his way is entertaining, and they’re able to live together (relatively) amicably despite having pretty different lives up until now. Chikage has to admit that his routine with Itaru is very… comfortable.

“I suppose you have a point.” Chikage pauses. It looks like Itaru is recovering, but… Maybe he should still ask him. Itaru’s reaction earlier still stings a bit, but somebody has to try to talk to him. As much as Chikage would love to pretend that he doesn’t care about Itaru, he, unfortunately, does care. “So, do you want to talk about what was bothering you?” Of course, if Itaru doesn’t want to, Chikage won’t pry, but he should still ask now that Itaru’s being more open. Someone needs to offer Itaru a helping hand every so often, and even if Chikage has never really been good at this kind of thing, he has no choice here.

Itaru doesn’t seem surprised by Chikage’s question, but he still frowns a little. “Well… Like I said, it’s nothing really. Just, you know, your usual existential crisis blah blah. Happens all the time, haha.” Even though Itaru is laughing, it sounds hollow. If he thinks he’s going to fool Chikage with that, he has another thing coming.

Sighing, Chikage levels a meaningful glare at Itaru. “Chigasaki, if you don’t want to discuss it, that’s fine, but don’t lie to my face so blatantly. It’s insulting.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you,” Itaru snips, repeating his earlier words with considerably less venom. Well, he probably deserved this one, too. With a sigh of defeat, Itaru just shrugs. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t really think this is something I can talk to you or anybody else about. You because it’s, well, _you_ , but everybody else is out too because this is embarrassing.” Itaru grumbles a bit at the end, but before Chikage can react, he quickly tacks on one last part. “Oh, but, this isn’t the kind of thing I’m not telling you because I don’t trust you or because I think you’ll make fun of me—which, tbh, I _do_ think. I’m not telling you because it’s not something I can talk to you about right now.”

Well. That’s ominous.

Chikage isn’t really sure how he’s supposed to react, so he just stares at Itaru, who averts his eyes uncomfortably. It doesn’t look like he’s going to give out any hints as to what he’s talking about.

It looks like Chikage only has one choice.

“Well, is it something that you can talk to me about in the future?” He asks, crossing his arms.

Itaru nods, still refusing to make eye contact with Chikage. “Yeah, it is. When that time comes, I’ll talk to you about it.” Itaru shifts his gaze upward, still a bit uncomfortable but making sure to look Chikage in the eyes as he says his next words. “It’s a promise.”

Chikage hesitates for a second before saying what he should have said earlier. “You don’t have to promise me anything.” _Because I can’t promise you anything at all._

And yet, Itaru just smiles—and somehow, it’s hard to look at.

“But I will. This is a promise from me to you. I know we’re not suited to having these serious talks, and I hate them as much as you do, but I’m willing to promise you that I’ll tell you what’s been bothering me someday in the future. Then, maybe, we can understand each other a bit more—not that I really think that’s necessary,” Itaru chuckles, a grin on his face. It looks like he’s made a full recovery somehow. How, Chikage has no idea. All Chikage’s done is pissed him off this whole time. Well, he supposes that’s his strange roommate for you.

“… Alright, if you say so.” Chikage feels guilty for not being able to make any promises to Itaru and only being able to give him half-hearted acceptances, but, judging by Itaru’s satisfied expression at his words, Itaru doesn’t actually mind. Maybe the day where Chikage can actually promise him something will come…

… Though that may just be a pipe dream.

Still.

In this place, even miracles can happen. Chikage’s seen them with his own eyes. So he can’t help but let himself be just a little hopeful. Just a little.

Maybe, one day… He’ll finally be able to promise Itaru that he isn’t going to leave them someday.

… If a day like that came, Chikage would never forget it for the rest of his life.

“Oh, and…” Itaru’s eyes soften a bit as he smiles—it’s just a small smile, but it’s honest. “Welcome home, Chikage-san.”

Right… Itaru didn’t greet him when he entered the room earlier.

Chikage returns his smile and hopes that his expression doesn’t look as pathetic as it feels.

“I’m home, Chigasaki.”

* * *

The end of the year is as lively as ever, with all the people who stayed at the dorms celebrating as the clock turns to midnight. Since the ones who stay at the dorms are mostly adults, there’s plenty of alcohol lying around, which Izumi makes sure doesn’t reach the underage guys who are still here. Chikage enjoys a few drinks with the adult group, watching in amusement as Sakuya and Masumi do a manzai routine at Citron’s behest—although, anyone paired with Masumi turns into a natural manzai artist.

Hisoka has been chugging down drinks next to Chikage like a pro for a while, so Chikage predicts that he’ll be passing out soon, albeit not from the alcohol but lack of sleep. Guy has already offered to carry Hisoka back to his room when he falls asleep, so at least Chikage is free from Sleepyhead duty.

It feels quiet despite the fact that Citron and Misumi are still making plenty of noise, but that’s probably because most of the others have gone home for New Year’s. If everyone were still here, the Summer Troupe would no doubt be making a fuss while the Autumn Troupe has their signature quarrels. Chikage feels himself smile at the thought.

It’s a bit lonely without all of their family here, but he knows that they’ll be back soon.

“… Don’t smile to yourself. It’s creepy,” a quiet voice mumbles to Chikage’s right, and he immediately sighs, sending a scowl over to the owner of the voice.

“You sound just like Chigasaki,” Chikage gripes, but he doesn’t do any further complaining. Luckily for him, Hisoka and Itaru aren’t often together, but if they were, he’d have a permanent headache. Just thinking about dealing with the two thorns in his side at the same time sends a shiver down Chikage’s spine.

Hisoka hums, finishing up another glass. “… Well, he’s right.”

Chikage simply chops him on the head for that one.

After some pouting about the chop, Hisoka glances at Chikage. “… Do you miss him?” He asks, curious. Chikage just gives him an exasperated glare.

“Please. If anything, it’s more comfortable without him here.”

“… You’re lying. If it was so comfortable, you’d spend more time in your room than in the living area and other places.”

Chikage rolls his eyes. “Is there something wrong with me spending time in the living room? It’s what I usually do, anyway,” Chikage points out, recalling all the time he’s spent in the living area and balcony when Itaru is recording his videos. Hisoka is pursuing a pointless line of thought.

Hisoka levels an even stare on Chikage, slowly munching on a marshmallow from the bag he’s hugging to his chest. “… I know you, and I know you like spending time with everyone here, but I also know you need to unwind sometimes. It’s pretty weird that you’re spending so much time with us rather than in your room now that Itaru’s gone, so I thought maybe you feel like the room is empty without him. Am I wrong?” Hisoka’s voice is as slow and sleepy as ever, but there’s a trace of amusement in it as well. Chikage resists the urge to click his tongue. Leave it to this idiot to see through Chikage.

So, maybe he does feel like their room is bigger than normal without Itaru there. So what? He doesn’t necessarily miss him, and he certainly doesn’t miss the mess that Itaru makes with all his snacks and cola, but—

But, sure, maybe Chikage feels weird being in that room without Itaru there. It was originally just Itaru’s room in the first place, and it took a while for Chikage to feel like it belonged to him, too. Still, that doesn’t mean that Chikage misses his noisy roommate.

So, Chikage tells Hisoka just that. “You’re wrong,” he replies, bluntly, downing the rest of his own glass. Hisoka just rolls his eye, shaking his head mournfully.

“How sad. You can’t even admit that you miss him.”

“Should I take that as an admission that you miss Homare-san, too?”

“Ugh, no way.”

Despite Hisoka’s grumpy reply, Chikage can tell that he misses his own roommate—just a little, though. As much as he’d love to tease Hisoka about this, Chikage should probably just let the subject go before Hisoka turns the questions back onto him. Chikage returns to drinking in peace, but he doesn’t miss the smile on Azuma’s face from across the table. Chikage has to resist the urge to grimace; he had been hoping that Azuma wasn’t paying attention to them.

After a couple more drinks, Hisoka passes out, and Guy rises to take him back to the room. Izumi’s already knocked out on the couch, and the minors have all returned to their rooms already. Azuma and Citron seem to be willing to keep going, but Chikage thinks he’ll retire soon. He says good night to the remaining two adults, ruffles Izumi’s hair a single time, and then says good night to Guy, who he sees on his way out. He makes his way through the quiet courtyard, noting that it’s pretty cold tonight. Not that he minds.

Room 103 is, naturally, quiet when Chikage opens the door and steps inside. He flicks on the lights, glancing over at Itaru’s empty bed. He sighs.

He shouldn’t let Hisoka get to him like this.

Chikage wanders over to his own area before he gets ready for bed, thinking of sitting in his chair and reading the news before he sleeps. When he reaches his chair, though, he notices a pink sticky note stuck to the back of his chair. Furrowing his brow, he plucks it off of the chair, holding it up to the light so he can read it.

_Don’t forget that Gawain is getting a SSR for New Year’s. -Itaru_

Chikage blinks.

And then he starts laughing to himself.

The message is just so _Itaru_ that he can’t help himself. If someone leaves a sticky note behind, usually it says something of some level of importance, but trust Itaru to leave something game-related behind. Despite the fact that some time has passed since Itaru left, Chikage hadn’t noticed this note until today.

… Maybe he really is spending too much time outside of the room.

The note should have stuck out because of its color, but Chikage didn’t notice it at all, which is completely unlike him. Hisoka might have been right.

Maybe he does miss Itaru… just a little.

Well, since Itaru went out of his way to leave this note, he might as well as listen to him. Chikage opens KniRoun on his phone, collects his login bonus, and then goes to the gacha page to roll for Gawain. He notes that Lancelot has a new SSR as well, and that it matches Gawain’s. They’re both wearing formal clothing, and they seem to be in the castle ballroom for the New Year’s party. In Gawain’s uncapped art, a drunk Gawain is toasting a not-so drunk Lancelot, who looks like he’s about to lose his glass from the force behind the toast, and in Lancelot’s uncapped art, Lancelot is gazing out the window at the bright stars while Gawain is passed out next to him at the table. Chikage has to suppress a laugh. He supposes these versions are going for more of a comedic feel.

It only takes three rolls to max out both Gawain and Lancelot, and Chikage takes a screenshot of both of them before exiting the app and heading over to LIME. He ignores the Spring Troupe chat, where everyone was exchanging New Year’s greetings earlier, and he opens Itaru’s private chat, sending him the screenshot. It’s late, so he might be sleeping. With that in mind, Chikage is about to change into his sleepwear, but before he can, the “Read” mark appears next to his picture. Chikage blinks in surprise at the fast reaction.

A handful of seconds later, a reply comes through.

I: _I don’t want to know how many rolls that took_

Chikage grins.

C: _It was three_

I: _I said I DIDN’T want to know. ugh you lucky unromantic senpai. I’ll never forgive you after all that money I spent on them_

C: _Now there’s something_ I _don’t want to know_

Chikage logs back into KniRoun for a moment, checking on Itaru’s support character. It’s a maxed-out version of the limited Lancelot that just came out, which means… Chikage smirks.

Back to LIME.

C: _I see you changed your support to Lancelot. What happened to your precious Christmas Gwen that you spent xxx paychecks on to max out?_

I: _you be quiet. I still love her and she’s still on my main team. but I gotta show off lancelot since I finally managed to get him. well gawain’s on my main team now too tho_

Itaru’s wallet must be crying right about now. Chikage smiles down at his phone, shaking his head. His roommate is so silly. Being able to talk to him like this nearly makes him forget that he’s not going to be coming back for a little while more.

I: _btw is the party done over there already?_

C: _Not quite, but I’ve had enough alcohol for the night. What about you?_

I: _we got home from the shrine a while ago but I’ve been playing kniroun for a while since I can’t sleep_

C: _What, miss your bed at the dorms?_

I: _a little bit yeah_

Chikage is surprised by the honest answer, and he pauses, glancing over at Itaru’s empty bed. After debating for a second, he types his reply.

C: _Well, it’ll be waiting for you when you come back_

I: _and you too?_

Okay, something weird is going on. Maybe Itaru’s drunk. Azuma has said that when Itaru gets drunk, he becomes more honest, but Chikage has personally never witnessed that before.

C: _Is something wrong, Chigasaki?_

I: _no just wanna know. will you be waiting for me when I get back?_

This is unusual, but Chikage doesn’t see any point in lying to him. He’ll probably be here when Itaru gets back, anyway.

C: _Sure_

I: _good_

That seems to signal the end of the conversation, as Itaru doesn’t text him anything more after that. Maybe he fell asleep. Chikage closes LIME, finally walking over to the closet so that he can change into his sleepwear.

He’s curious about what all that was about, but it was probably nothing.

Soon enough, the guys who went home for New Year’s come back to the dorms, and Itaru is one of the first to get back since he has a car. Chikage welcomes him back with the rest of the Spring Troupe that’s here, and Itaru greets them with a smile, but…

He doesn’t quite meet Chikage’s eyes when he glances at him.

Though, Chikage isn’t sure why.

Itaru gives out the souvenirs he brought back for them, and he also gives the Spring Troupe minors their New Year’s allowance. He forces Masumi to take Tsuzuru’s, since he made one for Tsuzuru despite his age but said scriptwriter isn’t currently here. He also gives one to Citron since he predicted that Citron would pester him for one.

“What about me?” Chikage asks with a perfect smile. Itaru just scoffs.

“If anything, _you_ should be giving one to _me_.”

He still won’t meet Chikage’s eyes.

Looks like Chikage will have to ask him about it.

After Itaru says hello to Izumi, he announces that he’s going to drop his things off in his room. Chikage grabs one of his bags, not giving Itaru any other option but to let him come with him. Chikage doesn’t miss the grimace Itaru makes when he realizes why Chikage’s helping him with his bags.

They’re both silent as they make their way across the courtyard and into their room. After Chikage puts down Itaru’s bag, he turns back to face him, observing the expression on his face. Itaru looks mostly normal, but a hint of nervousness is still clearly visible in the furrow of his brow. Chikage sighs. This isn’t exactly what he expected when Itaru finally came back.

“So, what is it? Why are you trying to avoid me?” Chikage asks flatly, watching as Itaru pretends to be busy with unpacking his bags. It was just a short trip; he probably doesn’t actually have that much to unpack. He had an extra bag just for souvenirs, after all.

When Itaru hears Chikage’s question, though, he pauses, looking up at Chikage in surprise. “You mean… you don’t know?” He asks, almost sounding… puzzled. Chikage doesn’t understand. He doesn’t really think Itaru showed any signs of being upset with Chikage when they texted each other a few days ago, and he was definitely acting normally when he left the dorms.

“Of course I don’t. You never told me you were upset with me.”

Itaru blinks, expression blank. “Upset?”

It’s Chikage’s turn to blink. “You mean you’re not upset with me? But then why are you trying to avoid me?” If Itaru isn’t upset with Chikage, then it doesn’t make sense why he’s trying to avoid him.

“Uh. I mean, I don’t really wanna say because it’s embarrassing, or rather, awkward, but since you really don’t seem to realize, well.” Itaru pauses, scratching his neck uncomfortably. He shuffles his feet for a moment before finally saying, “It’s because of what I said to you on New Year’s.” He focuses his gaze on the floor, but Chikage doesn’t miss how uncomfortable he looks.

New Year’s? But their conversation was so normal. What was so embarrassing or awkward about—

And, Chikage realizes.

_Oh. He thought that I might not be here when he came back._

The room falls into an uncomfortable silence.

Chikage can’t exactly blame Itaru for thinking that, but he also doesn’t really think he’s given him any reason to think that as of late. Still, he knows that he might one day have to leave this place to protect everyone here, and he’s made his peace with that. Of course, if he could stay with them forever, he would in a heartbeat. But reality is not so kind.

Itaru seems to understand that now that Chikage knows what this is about, he doesn’t really want to talk about it. Itaru shakes his head, something between a smile and a wince pulling at his lips. “Um, well, I was drunk when I was texting you, so I didn’t really mean to send that message, but… Well.” Itaru shrugs helplessly. “I can’t deny that I sometimes wonder if you’ll leave us one day. And I don’t like doing this, but it seems like we kinda need this, so… Will you listen to me for a little while?”

If Itaru wants to talk, Chikage has no issue with that, but… “Just know that I might not be able to comment on any of this, so don’t expect me to answer any questions.” Despite how Chikage purposefully makes his voice cold when he says that, Itaru just smiles a little, like he already expected that.

“I know.”

…

Itaru is respectful of Chikage’s boundaries, and he doesn’t ask Chikage for any details on his other life. Chikage has faith that, even now, Itaru won’t actually pry into his life, and that he’ll probably just voice his worries. He probably won’t expect an answer, even if he wants one, and…

And Chikage just wishes that Itaru was deterred by his words.

He remembers, all those months ago, when he wondered if he was just making Itaru suffer by these glimpses of his other life that he’s exposed him to. He knows that he might be getting the answer to his question now, but he never wanted to know. He’s never wanted to know if he’s just making Itaru suffer.

Because he’ll hate himself if he is. 

That’s just how important the other man has become to Chikage.

Izumi is a different case because she has more information on Chikage’s background and what goes on in his other life. Sometimes he does worry if he just gives her extra stress because of that, but judging by what she said to him during Scarlet Mirror, she’s dealing with it just fine. Itaru, on the other hand, only has bits and pieces of information, and he has to piece everything else together. Chikage would rather him just forget anything he sees, but he knows that that’s impossible. Itaru won’t just forget, and he’s too smart not to piece together Chikage’s secrets. But because of the incompleteness of his information, he’s always going to have more questions than answers, and Chikage can’t exactly give him many reassurances, either.

If Chikage had someone like himself in his life, he thinks he might just cut them off for being so secretive, but… Itaru isn’t him. Despite what he might claim, he’s just as kind and accepting as the rest of the guys in the Spring Troupe.

And sometimes Chikage feels so guilty for taking advantage of that kindness.

Itaru gestures to the couch, so they both take a seat on opposite ends of it, bodies slightly turned toward each other. Itaru takes a moment to gather his thoughts before beginning to speak.

“It’s not like it’s a foreign concept, you leaving. We’ve all already forgiven you for that one incident, so I’m not really talking about that. I know you have a lot of… things to deal with, and I can tell that you might have to leave one day because of all of that. I’m definitely the last person to be telling someone this, but—” Chikage wonders what that means as Itaru takes a deep breath. “But I really don’t want you to leave. It’d make everyone else sad, and Hisoka would have us, but I know you’re special to him and I’d feel bad if he lost you and—”

“—and, okay, I’d hate it if you left, too, because you’re the best roommate for me, and I like spending time with you, and, ugh. This is so embarrassing, someone tape my mouth shut,” Itaru tapers off into a groan, turning his face away so that Chikage can’t see him.

Chikage can only stare at the back of Itaru’s head, a little flattered, a lot lost, and a bit concerned. Before he can figure out if he can say anything to comfort Itaru, his roommate plows on, as if doing so will make him forget his embarrassment. “And, you know, I wouldn’t blame you if you left one day because you had no other choice, but it would still hurt. I know our relationship is pretty frank and dry, but I still care about you, and I like to think you care about me, too.”

There, Chikage finally interrupts. “Of course I care about you.” That’s a fact, even if Chikage doesn’t like to admit it.

Chikage thinks Itaru’s ears are red.

“Well… thanks. Anyway, I care about you, and I want you to be safe, but I get that I can’t exactly tell you what you can and can’t do. So, after this, we can go back to me averting my eyes and you doing whatever, that’s fine, but just. Just at least remember.”

Itaru turns his head slightly back toward Chikage, hesitant. There’s real concern in his eyes, and that silences any teasing that Chikage was thinking of doing about how out of character Itaru is acting. “Remember that, even if you do leave, you’ll always have a family here waiting for you to come back. And as long as I’m still living here in this room, you’ll always have a place to come back to. So. You know. … Even if you leave, I’ll be waiting. Because I… care. A lot.”

Even though every word seems to be a struggle to get out, Itaru forces them out before turning away again. This time, though, Chikage’s grateful that Itaru can’t see him.

Because Chikage is having a hard time getting his own emotions under control.

_You’ll always have a here family waiting for you… You’ll always have a place to come back to._

Deep down, Chikage’s always known this, but sometimes… Sometimes, when he thinks about having to leave them, he wonders. Even if he did finish what he needed to do and was still alive, would he be able to come back here? Even if he took the necessary precautions, would he even have the right to intrude on the lives of the people he’s left? Surely, they’d hate him for leaving them without telling them where he’s going or what he’s doing.

But Itaru is telling him the opposite. He’s reassuring him that it’s okay, that Chikage will always be able to come… home.

He knows. He knows that none of the people here are the type to hold a grudge, and that if he left and eventually came back one day, they’d all welcome him back with open arms. Still… it’s nice to hear, to be reminded that his fears are unfounded.

“… Sorry…” That’s all Chikage can say, because his throat feels like it’s trying to collapse on itself. Luckily, Itaru still isn’t looking at him. Chikage’s sure that his face looks like a mess of emotions right now. “You shouldn’t have to reassure me about anything, yet here you are doing just that. I’m… sorry that I’ve made you suffer so much.”

He has an inkling that he knows what Itaru didn’t want to talk to him about when he found him on the floor that one day. He was probably worrying about something related to Chikage and didn’t want to tell him about it. Chikage supposes he has his answer.

He’s just making Itaru suffer by not being able to conceal his other life from him.

“… That incident wasn’t really about what you’re thinking, you know—or, well, it kind of was, but it wasn’t.” Itaru, ever so skilled at reading into Chikage, interrupts Chikage’s negative train of thought with those words. “It’s true that I worry because I care, but I’m better at hiding it than that. The days leading up to that day weren’t so great, either, so I guess you can say I just sort of had had enough that day. I mean, it’s just… I know I’m pretty powerless and weak, but sometimes I just feel so _helpless_ when I think that someone who’s very close to me might be suffering out there on their own. And I wanna help them— _you_ —but I can’t because I’m useless and. Ugh. I hate feeling like this.” Itaru sinks into the couch, miserable. Chikage had no idea that he felt this way, since he’s usually so aloof with his usual actions, but…

“You don’t have to worry about me, you know.” He thinks that they’ve had this conversation before, but it looks like they’ll have to have it again. Even though he knows that Itaru can’t see him, Chikage tries for a reassuring smile, if not for Itaru’s sake but his own because he feels like he’s drowning in his own guilt. And it’s not like him to feel like this, but he hates himself for making a member of his family suffer over himself, and he won’t be able to be at peace until he knows that Itaru isn’t wasting his time worrying about him anymore. He’d love nothing more than to brush off Itaru’s feelings, but he just can’t. Not when Itaru is clearly serious about all of this. “I’m plenty strong, and I can take care of—”

Itaru finally uncovers his face, glaring up at Chikage in frustration. “But that’s not the _point_. The point is, you’re human, and there’s only so much you can do on your own. Sure, you’re a cheat character operating on New Game+—” And this also is very familiar to Chikage, but he can’t bring himself to interrupt, “but, still. I know I might be virtually useless, but I’m here for you. Please… just understand that. I’m not ‘suffering’ because of you. It’s only natural that I would worry about someone important to me. I don’t want your apologies, or you feeling guilty because you think I’m ‘suffering’ or something because I’m not. I worry because I _care_. Get that through your insufferably thick skull already. How many times are we going to have this conversation?”

Itaru finishes with a huff, eyes full of irritation but steady with resolve. Chikage is reminded of when they were in Zahra—when Itaru surprised him with how ready he was to risk his life along with Chikage. This conversation is a rehashing of what they talked about then basically, but this time, Chikage thinks that this will be the last time they have to have it—for now, anyway. After all, he feels like he can finally accept Itaru’s feelings on the matter.

Chikage drops his head down as he feels a torn smile pull at his mouth. It doesn’t look like he’ll be able to rid himself of his roommate’s concern so easily, but… It’s a nice feeling.

“… I still won’t be able to talk with you about a lot of things.”

“That’s fine.”

“And it’s not like I’m going to willingly take you to any dangerous places.”

“I expected that.”

“…”

“Even so, even if it’s just a place to come home to, I’m here. You can trust in that, I promise.”

“…”

“And, hey. If you ever need someone to bribe people, you know who to call.”

Chikage glances up to find Itaru grinning cheekily. He seems to have completely recovered from the embarrassment of admitting that he cares about Chikage, and he’s back to being his usual cheeky self. Chikage can feel a smile slowly forming on his face.

He knows that he can’t put Itaru in danger if he can help it. He’ll never forgive himself. But if Itaru is willing to avert his eyes and pretend like he doesn’t see what’s going on, and is still willing to wait for Chikage patiently all the while to welcome him home…

Then, even if he knows he shouldn’t, Chikage will take Itaru up on that offer.

“… Thank you. I feel bad that I wasn’t able to assuage your worry and that you ended up reassuring me instead, though,” Chikage sighs, deciding to be truthful this one time. While he is grateful for Itaru’s words, it’s pathetic that he wasn’t able to comfort Itaru at all. Itaru might be content not having any solid answers to his worries, and while Chikage _is_ grateful that Itaru somehow managed to skirt around actually talking about his suspicions on what Chikage's other job is, he still feels like he owes it to Itaru to reassure him after all Itaru's said to reassure Chikage. 

In contrast, Itaru just smiles. “Well, if you want to comfort me, then tell me something: promise me you’ll at least come to me when you feel like you need a break. It’s fine if you want space, I do too, but sometimes, people just need some human comfort, you know? If I can’t do anything else for you, at least let me do that. Although, it’s kind of embarrassing…” Itaru mutters the last part, glancing away, but he doesn’t retract his words.

Chikage’s instinctual answer is a very firm “no.” He’s never liked much contact with other people, especially the physical kind, but something stops him this time. Maybe it’s because he feels like he owes it to Itaru to think it over since this is clearly out of his comfort zone, maybe it’s _because_ it’s Itaru who’s offering this to him. Had it been anyone else, Chikage might have turned them down already.

But maybe… Itaru is special to him.

And maybe he might be interested in what Itaru is thinking of to help him unwind.

“And what would this entail, exactly?” Chikage inquires, a light feeling spreading through his chest. He doesn’t know why. Itaru was the one who was supposed to be getting things off his chest, so why does Chikage feel so… relieved? Is it because he now knows that Itaru isn’t suffering because of him? Is it because Itaru’s reassured him that he has a place to come back to?

Is it because he’s finally realized that Itaru might be special to him?

He would have thought that would be more reason for stress, but… It just feels so natural. It’s like all the special treatment Chikage has given Itaru and all the messy feelings finally make sense. Although, he does think it'll take a little more time for him to be able to say any of this out loud, and to come to terms with what this really means.

He has no time to ponder over these things, though. “Oh. Um.” Itaru seems a bit flustered, as if he half-expected Chikage to just turn him down, and he gestures vaguely. “Well, you know, we’d… Um. I could, like… do this, I guess?”

Itaru very cautiously scoots closer, and Chikage watches him with interest. Itaru moves in right next to Chikage, so close that their legs are touching, and he leans into Chikage’s side, slipping his hand into Chikage’s loosely. Chikage just stares down at him awkwardly holding his position before commenting, “This feels more like you clinging to me than comforting me.”

“Ugh. Unromantic senpai strikes again,” Itaru grumbles, but the red in his ears gives away how embarrassed he is. When he shifts to move away, though, Chikage intertwines their fingers together, brushing a thumb over Itaru’s hand. Itaru blinks in astonishment. “… Huh?”

Chikage grins. He feels like they’re finally returning to their usual selves—and what a relief that is. “I never said I hated it,” he says, lightly, pulling Itaru in closer. Truth be told, he feels awkward doing this as well, but he’d never let Itaru in on that fact.

It’s fine. As long as Itaru holds up his end of the bargain, there will be plenty of opportunities to get used to things like this.

It takes a few minutes, but Itaru eventually relaxes into Chikage’s side, resting his head against Chikage’s shoulder. Chikage leans his head against Itaru’s, closing his eyes. This… actually feels really nice. He could get used to this.

“… Chikage-san?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you. I know you’re always looking out for me, and that even if you _are_ mean to me sometimes—” Chikage flicks Itaru for that one, to which he just sighs at. “—I know that, at the end of the day, I can count on you. So thank you.” He's probably also thanking him for asking him what was wrong both that time he was on the floor and this time. In truth, Chikage doesn't really think he deserves any thanks for either incident, but it'd be rude to deny Itaru's gratitude when it sounds so honest. So he gives him the most truthful reply that he can muster.

“… I should be the one thanking you.”

Whether verbally or silently, Itaru has always been looking out for Chikage, too. He knows that, and he’s grateful. Even if he can take care of himself, it’s nice to know that Itaru cares about him enough to look out for him.

Itaru laughs quietly, and there’s a warmth in it that makes Chikage want to laugh, too. “We’re both being pretty strange today, huh? But that’s okay. We can be weirdos together.”

“Hey, don’t lump me in with you.”

“Haha.”

Chikage tightens his grip on Itaru slightly. It feels appropriate to say this next thing, but he’s still not very good at being honest about his feelings. Still, he’ll say it, because he thinks it needs to be said. This might be the only time he’s willing to say it, too.

“You’re… very important to me,” Chikage murmurs, hearing his own voice tremble just a bit.

Itaru jolts a bit, startled, but he soon replies, voice trembling a little just like Chikage’s. “… You’re very important to me, too.”

In the future, they’ll probably have to discuss what sort of significance that importance means for them, but for now, Chikage is content to sit here with Itaru and enjoy just being with him because he cares about him and enjoys spending time with him.

And that’s something that he’s willing to admit.

**Author's Note:**

> kniroun's betrayal plot always gives me such a complicated feeling because I'm 99% sure they based it on both chikage and itaru's experiences with betrayal (but mostly chikage) and that's just not fair
> 
> I like to think that chikage is in... a lot of denial about how much he cares about itaru considering how he treats him, but that at the end of the day, he's super fond of spending time with him because it's so comfortable. kinda feel like the latter half was blah, but listen... I just wanted them to hold hands


End file.
